Unacceptable
by Jackamiah Meaney
Summary: There's been a change among the turtles. But this time, it's not necessarily going to have a happy ending. Angst. Enjoy.


(a/n: Okay...lessee. Number one: First turtles fanfic, so I really hope it doesn't suck. But if it does, at least I tried.

Number two: arguably out of character, but I dunno. I've seen a lot of "one of them has been turned human, and ooh, look they're in love with a chick now...YAAAAY!" fics, while not seeing what the other turtles are responding, etc. For several reasons, this is how I kinda saw it. More or less. Depending, of course, on how all of this stuff happened.

Number three: Angsty. I don't write angst. Don't have the flare for it, don't have the patience for it. But there you are, I was in a weird mood. These things happen.

Number four: Yeah, I know it's kinda weird. But this is a pointless one shot of DOOM. I may expand on it later. I may not. Who knows. It's all up in the air for me today. But I'm going to stop these because at this rate, I'll frankly end up with more of this than I do the story).

The brunette held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender proving, also, that he was unarmed -- for the moment. "Look, I'm telling you the truth!"

"I don't believe you for a second. For all I care, you were sent by the Shredder, and that's reason enough to see you dead," Raphael growled in his usual rough Brooklyn accent.

The scene would have been completely bizarre for anyone that wasn't prepared to see it. A young man, probably in his mid to late teenage years, with dark brown hair and dark blue eyes, wearing only a pair of obviously filched shorts several sizes too large for him held up with a makeshift belt was standing ankle-deep in sewer water. Standing across from him was something even more unlikely, and according to most, something that had to be impossible.

There were four of them in all. Three were large, dark green, humanoid turtles, shorter than the human across from them, but not by more than a few inches. And even shorter than those three was a dark gray rat leaning against a walking cane, behind the three turtles. He was not speaking, but was watching the interaction with a dark, severe gaze.

"Look, Raphael, damnit, I'm Donatello. Would you just open your eyes, already?" The young man demanded, nearly yelling, his five-fingered hands clenched into fists.

The darkest of the turtles, wearing a red bandana looked away from the young man, clearly disbelieving. He held two sais in his hands, but did not attack. If his twitching fingers were of any indication, clearly he wanted to.

"Leo?" The young man pleaded, turning towards the turtle wearing dark blue. Nothing. "Mikey?" The lightest of the turtles, with the orange was his last defense. "C'mon, Mikey, you know me. It's Donnie! I made you your first skateboard when you were eight because you kept stealing mine and sludging up the wheels."

The lightest turtle was clenching his eyes shut. He didn't want to hear it.

"Donnie's been gone for two years," the blue commented. "Donnie has to be dead. And just because the Shredder found out some stupid story in attempts to authenticate you means nothing. Leave now, and you might live."

"Leonardo, I'm not leaving. This is my home. Hell, I designed most of this home. And you can't kick me out of it, just because Stockman and the Shredder did this to me. I need my labs so I can get back to normal," the young man crossed his arms against his chest in both a defensive maneuver and one to demonstrate his stubbornness in his decision.

"I felt my son die," the elderly rat finally spoke, looking up at the human male. "Can you explain that?"

"I cannot, sensei, but please, trust me. I just managed to escape them. I swear that I am who I say I am. What do I have to gain from lying about it? Just because they made me look different doesn't mean that I'm a different person than I used to be. Ask me anything that Donatello would know. Anything, I swear it."

Leonardo and Michelangelo shared a look, and then both looked at the rat. Raphael growled audibly, and glared at his brothers. "Donnie died. He died after he saved my life, and that's the end of it. And if I ever see you again, I'll fucking kill you."

And with that, he was gone.

The young man, arguably one Donatello, visibly wilted. "Raph..." he whispered after the other's retreating form.

"You...you shouldn't be here," Leonardo finally muttered to him. "Even if you used to be Donnie...he's gone. It's not fair of you to bring his memory back to us when we've barely laid him to rest."

"Leo...you can't mean that! We're supposed to be brothers!"

"Us?" Michelangelo asked finally, but there were tears running down his cheeks. "You and us...brothers? My brother is dead, man. I don't expect you to understand that. And if you were once Donnie...you're not now. You're someone else. You should leave. Go back to the surface."

"You...you can't mean that," the young man replied, shaking his heads. His voice was thick with emotion. "You just can't. Please!"

"Leave!" Leonardo screamed, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Do not make me kill you."

"You can't kill me, Leo! I'm your brother!"

"We don't have a brother anymore!" Michelangelo responded, very quietly. "Please just go back wherever you came from. And don't come back."

"But...Mikey..."

But he was gone.

And suddenly, there was only one teen aged human, and one elderly gray rat, using a walking stick to hold himself upright. "I have lived a long time, young one," he began speaking in his voice. He did not take notice as the youth was beginning to cry. "And my sons have lived very hard lives. They have fought very hard their entire lives to help people -- for they are good, and it is the right thing to do. They have buried friends, and they have lost and mourned their brother--"

"But--"

"Listen!" the rat snapped, a flare of anger blossoming and settling within a single moment. "My son, Donatello, he was a brilliant soul, and he shined very brightly in our lives. He saved his brother as the expense of his own kidnapping, and Raphael has never recovered from the blow that dealt him. We searched for many months. Waiting. Waiting for news, an ultimatum...anything Even a taunt from our enemy. But we received nothing. No word. After a year, we stormed the Shredder's base. There was no sign of my son.

"Eventually, I felt the spirit that was my son die." His voice was hard as tempered steel now. "I felt him die within my heart, and I shared this sorrow with my remaining sons. We have mourned Donatello, and we are all incomplete without him. And you come here, claiming to be what we know is lost. You are not welcome here.

"I will not let my sons suffer you, young man. So I advise you to return to the surface. Find whatever it is that you have lost there, and do not let us find you again. Do not go back to the Shredder. Do not tell him that whatever his plan is has failed."

"But, sensei--"

"You are not listening," spoke the rat, but now in a patient tone. "You will leave now."

"Father..."

But it was no use. Again.

Staring at the emptiness that lay before him, he didn't move for a very long time.

Eventually, with no other option in sight, he brushed at the tears searing his cheeks, and he turned away. And he began a new journey in a direction that he had never dared to go before.

Into the light.

(a/n: END OF ANGST-FEST. //curtseys//. I hope that you enjoyed, and if you didn't…at least I enjoyed writing it. I guess.)


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